Boa
by deadpan riot
Summary: SnB era.  Pickles is trying to avoid everyone on St. Patty's day, but ends up failing miserably.  Pickles/Candynose. One-shot.


a/n: another thing I randomly found on my computer. Some very light St. Patty's day slash for you, even though it's the end of September. Yea, I know, I need to stop venturing into the depths of my hard drive...;D Pickles/Candynose.

Disclaimer: I don't own SnB, or March, or it's holidays.

* * *

It was the one day of the year that he hated most of all. It not only mocked him, but encouraged his friends to do so as well. Everywhere he went he couldn't escape it in all its horrible green glory.

Oh sure, he loved drinking enough green beer to make it look like he was pissing mouthwash just as much as the next guy, but that wasn't the point. After all, any genius could steal a keg and a couple bottles of food coloring. Hell, just the other night he'd decided that his case of pabst blue ribbon would be a thousand times better if it were actually blue.

No, the reason he hated St. Patty's day above all else was because it was aimed at him. It wasn't his fault he didn't own anything green, it clashed with his hair. And since "the rules" stated that eyes didn't count, he had to endure a day of ass-pinching by his so called friends.

Which is why that night found him haunting not one of his favorite bars, but an all-night cafe. He figured that the best way to keep his band mates from bruising his already sore ass-cheeks was to avoid them altogether. Unfortunately he couldn't remember which bars they'd been planning to hit that night so he'd begrudgingly forsaken them all.

Well, at least until he could no longer entertain himself elsewhere.

As discreetly as possible, he poured another shot into his coffee mug from the flask he kept in his boot for just such emergencies.

It was the rim of the mug obscuring his vision that kept him from noticing the man who'd entered and immediately made a beeline for him. It was this same mug who almost choked him with it's contents when he realized he was no longer alone. He fought the urge to chuck it at the wall.

"Hey Red, I've been looking for you."

Pickles scowled up at the grinning Candynose, vaguely thinking that all the purple and the big stupid grin made him look like that cat from that movie he couldn't name at the moment.

"Oh yeah? So whah', so yeh cood pinch me ahn call me a leprehcahn?"

"Something like that..." Candynose leaned down towards him, pickles barely registering that he was pulling something out from behind his back until he found it draped over his shoulders.

He'd barely registered so much as a flash of green and 'it tickles' before his senses where filled with his band mate. His world shrunk down to the lips against his and the tongue in his mouth playing coy as it conquered.

And all too soon it was gone, leaving as abruptly as it'd come.

It took him a little longer to re-expand his world perception than it had to shrink it, but when he could once again remember who and where he was he was speechless. He couldn't think of any witty comeback or snide remark, being that his mind felt fuzzy and Candy's face was still near his.

"Hm, knew i could get you into the holiday spirit." catty grin back in place, Candy ran his fingers through the thing he'd deposited onto Pickles' shoulders.

It was only when an exaggerated motion from Candynose found it wrapped around his neck as leverage to get him from his seat that Pickles realized what it was. "Dood, ah feather boa? Whaht yah stealin' frahm strippers nahw?"

Ignoring the comment, he turned and made for the door, leading Pickles along as if he were on a leash. "Come on Red, lets get that pretty little head of yours wasted. It is a holiday after all, and Tony no longer has an excuse to grab your ass, all thanks to me." He held up the brilliantly green feathers in his grasp to make his point. "You owe me, by the way."

The wicked glint in Candynose's eyes as he spoke oh-so-casually over his shoulder caused Pickles' stomach to dance it's way up into his throat and his face to turn a deeper shade of red than his hair.

Maybe he'd no longer shun the 'kiss me I'm Irish' mantra bullshit as he had for the whole of his life. Well, at least until some douche bag came along and did something to make it a fucking lame-ass tradition. Again.

* * *

I wonder how Pickles celebrates St. Patty's day with Dethklok? HM.

deadpan riot


End file.
